Bromancing Friends
by ICameISawIFailed
Summary: Confessions started it. Rumors threatened to end it. Will the power of friendship be strong enough to save a failing romance? Or will both friendship and love be lost in a tangled web of lies and rumors? -STYLE-
1. Chapter 1

_Starting Note: This is my first multi-chapter story on my new __"South Park"__ only account. I hope you all will enjoy it. I've really buckled down with my writing and refuse to slack off like I did/do on my old account. So, if it takes me longer to update due to proofreading and such, so be it. Warning: This is a Stan/Kyle story (Style). Which means, yes, there is yaoi (boy/boy romance)! If yaoi (boy/boy romance) or Stan/Kyle (Style) isn't your cup of tea, don't read any further than this note. This story is rated M for mature due to its coarse language, sexual content, and ideologically sensitive material. I would like to thank all of you who read, review, and support this story (and my other stories, for that matter). Thank you._

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All the teenagers of South Park High flooded the hallway as they began to switch classes. Everyone was cramped into the narrow hallway like sardines in a tightly sealed can. People were bumping shoulders and knocking each other over in a hurry as the tardy bell threatened to ring before they could grab their school supplies and make it to their next class.

However, this was quite a different experience for Stanley Marsh. No matter how many shoulders he managed to bump (and he had bumped into plenty), he never got the same feelings as when he bumped shoulders with his best friend. Oh, sorry, _super_ best friend. His super best friend was none other than the redheaded Jew, Kyle Broflovski.

Kyle was never as bold as Stan and certainly was never as out-spoken in school. He was a quiet, grade A student. He had always been that way, not just because he didn't want to be yelled at by his overbearing mother, but because he actually prided himself on being "the smart one". He had always been somewhat dubbed the smart one; just as Stan was the jock-like one, Kenny was the accident prone one, and Cartman… well… Cartman was just the neighborhood's jackass.

Stan had finally collected his school things from his locker and was heading to Mr. Garrison's classroom. How Mr. Garrison managed to still be teaching (and teaching his same old students, nonetheless) surpassed the comprehension of the school's staff and students. But, this isn't about the man with a fetish for his hand puppet; this is about Stan and how he had been feeling over the past few years or so for his best friend.

The ebony-haired, blue-eyed teen fast-walked down the hallway and he wasn't really paying attention to where he was going. That's when it happened. His shoulder grazed against that of his best friend's. While this happened every day, they ended up having the same reactions as always. They looked awkwardly to the ground, laughed a little, and then looked into each others' surprised eyes.

"Um, sorry, Dude," Stan mumbled lightly, grabbing onto the back of his neck, rubbing it gawkily. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"No, no. It's not your fault," the Jew replied as he did every day when this happened. He readjusted the thick books underneath his arm and smiled faintly at Stan. "Going to Garrison's?"

"Yeah," the blue-eyed adolescent answered, grabbing tighter onto his own books. "Where are you heading?"

"I'm going to Mr. Garrison's class as well."

"That's awesome! It'll be just like old times," Stan beamed, but his lips slowly turned downward as he noticed Kyle wasn't smiling back.

"Actually, I'll only be there doing important work," Kyle admitted, now rubbing his elbow nervously. "I'm supposed to help Mr. Garrison gather the final exam packages and check them over for typos and mistakes. I'll be in the back of the classroom doing that the whole time I'm there."

Stan looked a bit disappointed and depressed by Kyle's statement. His blue eyes held a little fragment of hurt, but he literally shrugged it off, gesturing with his shoulders. He sighed lightly, placing a hand onto Kyle's shoulder.

"Well, I guess that'll be fun. I've got to tell you, class just hasn't been the same without you, Dude."

"Thanks," the sixteen-year-old redhead grinned, walking along side his taller, seventeen-year-old companion. "My classes aren't the same without you in them either. I wish my mom hadn't signed me up for the early college courses, then I could still be in class with you, Kenny, and Fat-ass."

They both chuckled as they heard heavy footsteps coming up behind them. The footsteps were infuriated in sound as they slammed against the tiled floor. The footsteps obviously belonged to that of Eric Cartman, a pudgy, brunette, seventeen-year-old Nazi.

"Aye, don't call me fat, you stupid Jew!"

Kyle and Stan turned around to face the boy with comical smirks on their faces. This caused Cartman's brows to furrow angrily as he walked between the two, who continued to smirk and chuckle softly.

"Wow, Cartman. You've known me since preschool and "stupid Jew" is the only comeback you can come up with?"

"No," the brunette youngster smiled devilishly, using both hands to give Kyle and Stan both the bird at the same time. "I have three more words for you, Kyle. Suck. My. Balls!"

"Oh, bend over and suck them yourself, Fat-ass," Stan defended with a laugh as the three continued their walk to Mr. Garrison's classroom.

"Hey, guys," Kenny said with a smile and a wave, closing his locker. "Heading to Garrison's?"

"Yeah," the raven-haired boy with the red-brimmed, navy cap responded to the blonde, who had fresh stitches along the side of his face.

"All of you?" The blonde questioned, pointing to Kyle.

"I'm only going because I have to help Mr. Garrison," the ushanka sporting male explained, pointing to a door on their left-hand side. "Here it is."

"God!" Cartman exclaimed with a loud groan. He hated, absolutely _hated,_ school. He hated it almost as much as he hated Kyle… almost. "I hate this place."

Cartman and Kenny were the first to enter the classroom, which was decorated with cheesy yet educational posters and signs. Mr. Garrison greeted them and told them to take their seats, which they reluctantly did.

"Okay, boys," the teacher began, walking over to the blackboard and withdrawing a piece of chalk from a box. "Today we are going to begin studying for our final ex- hey, where is Stan? And where is Kyle? He knows very well that he's supposed to be helping me."

The two boys outside of the door heard their names, but weren't really paying attention to who was saying them. They had somehow gotten off track and had begun to talk of the good times when Kyle had Mr. Garrison's class.

"Stan," Kyle spoke with a smile. "This reminiscing is fun and all, but don't you think we should get to class? Mr. Garrison's wondering where we are."

Before Stan could reply, the teacher poked his head out of the doorway and into the hallway. He looked at the two boys with disapproving eyes.

"What's the hold up? You boys are supposed to be in class. Get in here before we all get into trouble."

"Yes, sir," Kyle grinned, following the teacher into the classroom. He walked to the back of the classroom and set his thick reading materials on the edge of the desk where he was to sit. He found a pile of exam packets ready and waiting for him. He let out a content sigh and pulled one of the packets in front of him, smiling as he opened it and began scanning it for errors.

Stan soon entered the classroom as well, regretting the fact that his and Kyle's conversation had been cut so short. They hardly ever got to see each other now that Kyle was taking early college classes. The only time he and Kyle really got to hang out was on the weekends. Sure, they still talked on the phone all the time, but it just wasn't the same as having Kyle right next to him when they spoke.

The Jew withdrew a red ink pen from his backpack and removed the cap with his pearly teeth, causing the blue-eyed boy to stare slightly. Stan shook his head to snap himself out of his trance and took his seat. He slung his backpack off of his shoulder and onto the floor. His baby-blue eyes looked to the blackboard, causing him to groan as he read the words "final exam prep sheets" written in chalk. He turned back to look at Kyle, who was delicately chewing on the end of his pen. The redhead seemed to be engulfed in his reading as his brows twisted and his face held more seriousness than Stan had ever seen on anyone's face before.

"As I was saying," Mr. Garrison continued, before looking to Stan, who was turned completely around in his seat, staring at Kyle. "Stan, is there something more important than your prep sheets on your mind?"

The boy, whose name had been called, quickly snapped around to face the front of the classroom. His teacher's voice was filled with annoyance toward him and his odd behavior. Stan gulped lightly and shook his head, opening the prep packet that was lying on his desk. He read the questions in his mind, thought about them, and then circled the answers. Whether they were the right answers or not, he really didn't care at this point.

Kyle coughed softly causing Stan to look to him with friendly concern on his pale face. The Jew noticed his friend staring and pointed to his throat.

"Just a tickle," the redhead mouthed, his emerald eyes moving away from his comrade and back onto the paper. His eyes went wide as he spotted a typo in the print. He quickly corrected it using his ink pen, turning the page, and once again looking over the printed words like a hawk.

Stan sighed, turning back around in his chair, continuing to work on his prep sheets. He found it difficult to focus on said work. Since when did it get so hard to concentrate with Kyle around?

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_Ending Note: Well, did it suck? Did it not suck? Tell me in a review, if you please. Also, don't fear the "favorite story" button, I don't bite. Unless you're like Kenny and you're into that sort of thing. I hope I didn't miss any spelling errors. I've ran this story through a word processor at least a dozen times and stayed up until four in the morning scoping it manually for errors the processor wouldn't be able to catch. I also had my friend read over it for me to catch any errors I may have missed. Stay tuned for chapter two._


	2. Chapter 2

_Starting Note: So, I've finally plotted out this whole story from beginning to end. This means, I am ready to begin churning out chapters again. I'm glad that I've got the plot figured out because that means that I'll actually be able to write better chapters. Okay, I said this in the last chapter, but for those of you who skip and skim through chapters, I will say it again. This is a Stan/Kyle (Style) story and contains yaoi (boy/boy romance); if that's not your cup of tea, then please read no further than this note. This story is rated M for mature due to coarse language, sexual content, and ideologically sensitive material. Enjoy and don't forget to favorite and review if you like the story. Thanks._

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"Stanley Marsh," Sharon called upstairs with a stern tone, clutching her son's prep sheets in her hand. "Get down here!"

"I'll be right back, Kyle," Stan said with a smile as he spoke into the microphone of his computer.

"Okay," the redhead answered, waving to his super best friend over his webcam. He pulled out a homework sheet and began working on it with extreme determination while he waited for his friend to return.

"Yeah, Mo-" the ebony-haired, blue-eyed adolescent began, his expression turning into slight worry as he came face-to-face with his prep sheets. "Oh, you, uh, you found those?"

"Would you please tell me why you got a sixty on your final exam prep sheets?" The brunette woman questioned, handing the papers to her son. Stan accepted the papers, trying to figure a way out of the situation.

"I, um, I was having a hard time focusing, I guess."

"How could you have a hard time focusing? I know that school isn't your favorite thing, Stan. But that gives you no excuse to just not try," Sharon explained with a firm tone. "Maybe some tutoring will help you concentrate."

"No, I'll do better on the exams, I prom-" Stan started, cutting himself off mid-sentence. "Actually, I bet Kyle could help me. He's good with school stuff."

"Well, I don't know," Stan's mother retorted, tapping her chin with her finger lightly. "Sheila told me that Kyle is taking early college classes and we wouldn't want him to get behind because he's busy tutoring you."

"But, Mom, don't you see? Kyle's taking early college classes for a reason, because he's really good in school. He'd be the perfect tutor because he's already done all the work that I'm doing now, so he'd understand it."

"I don't know. I'll have to think about it. I know how you two are when you get together. It's always joking around and playing video games."

"Please, Mom. I promise we'll really study."

Sharon shut her hazel eyes softly for a moment, sighing as she semi-reluctantly nodded her head. She took the papers away from her son and pointed up the stairs with a thin finger.

"Okay," she gave in, placing her son's prep sheets next to the phone as she reached out for the phone itself. "I'll call Sheila and ask if Kyle can come over tomorrow and help you study."

"No need," Stan beamed, halfway back up the flight of carpeted stairs. "I'm talking to Kyle on my webcam right now. If he hasn't left, that is."

"Stan, you're supposed to be studying, not talking to Kyle. This is exactly my point."

"We were just going over my homework," the raven-haired teen lied quickly before shutting his door and plopping back down in his computer chair. He warmly grinned as he saw Kyle's determined face, watching the redhead working on his homework. He doubted the Jew even noticed that he had returned. "Boo!"

"Gah!" Kyle shouted lightly as the sound of his friend's voice caught him off guard. He looked up from his homework and back to his computer with surprised eyes. His expression turned serious, a light tint of pink sprawling over his pale face. "Stan, you scared the hell out of me."

The blue-eyed boy chuckled softly, loving the way the blush livened up Kyle's pale face. He admired him for a brief moment before speaking.

"Sorry, Dude. Hey, I wanted to ask you something. Can you come over tomorrow and help me with my homework? My mom was snooping around through my backpack and found that sixty I got on those prep sheets."

"Oh, sure," the curly-haired adolescent agreed with a sweet smile, removing his ushanka and running a hand through his fiery locks. "What time should I go over?"

"Whenever is okay, I guess. Maybe around noo-" Stan stopped speaking abruptly as he felt his phone vibrate against his thigh. "Ah!"

"Stan, what's wrong?"

"What? Oh, nothing. I forgot my phone was in my pocket and it just made my crotch vibrate," Stan nonchalantly spoke until he realized what he just told his best friend. "I mean, the phone was on vibrate and when it went off it just… I'm not making this sound any better, am I?"

"Aha, no. Not at all," Kyle blushed, trying to recover from a slight fit of perverted giggles. "But I understood what you meant. My phone does that to me all the time."

The ebony-haired teen's face was still a deep shade of cherry red. He wriggled his phone out from the tight confinement of his pocket and flipped it open. His heart sunk as he saw the screen flashing the one name he never wanted to see nor hear again.

"Uh, hang on a sec, Kyle. I just got a text from Wendy."

"Wendy? Didn't you two officially break up like two months ago?"

"Yeah and she's barely talked to me since. Besides she's dating Token now, so this must be important," Stan spoke, his voice slightly stern and concerned as he glared at his phone, muttering to himself.

He pressed a button on his cellular phone that caused the text message to open upon the bright screen. He sighed reading the words with a dull, bored expression until he read the last few words. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as he rubbed them furiously and stared at the message once again. Surely he was reading something wrong or Wendy had miss typed the message or maybe the message had been meant for Token.

He read the words over and over until his head was spinning. This wasn't possible. Nothing had ever happened to make this possible. By this point, Stan was both confused and annoyed as he continued to reread the message. It had completely slipped his mind that Kyle could see his every move and expression.

"Dude, is everything okay? You've been reading that message for the past two minutes," Kyle asked with concern lacing his voice. His expression was just as concerned as his voice when Stan looked up to face him.

"Uh, yeah, everything's okay. I have go, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Erm, sure, okay. I should probably go help Ike with his homework anyway."

"Y-you do that," the taller teen stuttered, clicking a button to end the video call he had established with his friend. "Damn it, Wendy. You stupid whore!"

"Stan?" Randy questioned, walking into his son's room. "You know you're not suppose to call people whores."

"Dad, you don't understand," Stan replied until he realized his dad was in his room. "Hey, get out of my room. How long have you been standing there?"

"A few minutes," came the simple reply from the mustached man. "Why are you calling Wendy a whore? You two broke up like two months ago, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but it's not that. It's just," the blue-eyed teen sighed, moving over to lay on his bed. "Dad, I want to be alone. I have a lot to think about."

"Right, your mom told me about how you failed your prep sheets."

"Damn it, Dad! Get out!"

Randy stood in the doorway, looking at his son with slight shock. He scoffed softly, rolling his brilliant blue eyes that matched the color of his son's.

"Well, I know where I'm not wanted," he spat, turning on his heel like an immature child. "Oh, Stan, your mom wants you down for dinner in ten minutes."

With that, Randy left the room and shut the wooden door behind him. Stan was finally left alone, well not exactly alone. He still had his thoughts. His thoughts that were racing and slowly tormenting him. He thought up horrible scenarios, each one worse than the previous one had been.

"Th-this isn't my fault. I'm a virgin," he muttered under his breath, pressing his face into the fluffy pillow on his bed. "There is absolutely no way in hell that that baby is mine. I've never even had sex with Wendy. I would never have sex with Wendy. I don't love her. Never have really."

He couldn't get that text message out of his head. Every time he shut his eyes he could see the words in his vision. He hissed and growled, growing enraged as the words refused to leave his thoughts. He drew back his fist and roughly pounded it into the pillow.

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_Stan,_

_This is hard for me to tell you. Honestly, it is. But I'm not going to beat around the bush. I've hidden this for a whole month now and it's time that I told you. I'm pregnant. And you better step up and take responsibility for your baby._

_Wendy_

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His baby? How dare she have the nerve to blame him and say that that baby was his! She knew damn well they had never had sex. She knew damn well!

Stan was infuriated. Not due to the fact that Wendy was pregnant, he already knew that she was whore willing to spread her legs to anyone. Well, not until she had admitted to having sex with several guys from the school. Even some of the guys who were openly gay had fucked around with her. That's the whole reason they decided to break up and never reconsider their relationship. No, he was angry due to the fact that she would actually blame him for something she knew wasn't his fault.

"Stan! Shelly! Dinner!" Sharon shouted so her children could hear her clearly. She walked over to the table and laid out four plates of baked chicken and tater-tots.

"Mom! I'm talking to my boyfriend online!" Shelly bellowed, saliva spewing from her mouth as she spoke. "I don't have time for dinner!"

"Shelly Marsh, get down here and eat your dinner! You too, Stan!"

Stan groaned heavily, his raven locks plastered to his face as he raised his head up from the pillow (which he was lying on face down). He used his spidery fingers to push the locks away from his eyes and crawled off of the bed.

"Mom, I don't feel so great. Could I skip dinner?" The emotionally scarred teen murmured as he reached the end of the stairwell, his shoulders slumping over lightly.

"Um, of course. What's wrong?" Sharon inquired with slight concern, walking over to her son and placing his hand to his forehead. "You don't seem to have a fever."

"I just have a headache. I just need to go to my room and rest."

"Okay, I'll put your dinner in the microwave in case you want it later."

Stan nodded, his hand grabbing onto the banister as he began to walk back up the stairs. He entered his room and sighed deeply as he shut the door behind him. He plopped down on his bed as more thoughts invaded his mind.

"Damn you, Wendy. Even when you're not around, you cause so many fucking problems."

Suddenly, the teen's phone began to vibrate again. He opened it, expecting another text from Wendy. However, this text didn't make him angry, it made him smile to no end. How could a simple text do that? How could a single text from Kyle make the worst of situations seem okay?

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_Stan,_

_Sorry if I'm texting you at a bad time, like if you're eating dinner or something. I was just worried about you and was wondering if you're okay?_

_Kyle_

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Stan could feel that uncontrollable smile creep back over his slightly tanned face. His baby-blue eyes absorbing the words. He flipped out his phone's built-in keypad and feverishly texted back.

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_Kyle,_

_I'm just fine… now._

_Stan_

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_Ending Note: Um, yeah, sorry for turning Wendy into a whore. It's for the good of the story, honest. Okay, okay, I admit it. I despise the girl with a passion. Anyway, it's four in the morning and I'm having a really bad anxiety attack right now. I'm twitching worse than Tweek would be if he was sober from coffee for a year. I only proofread this chapter a couple of times. Hopefully it's not too bad. So, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. Reviews are appreciated and loved. Stay tuned for chapter three._


	3. Chapter 3

_Starting Note: I am so tired from staying up all night last night. I'm sorry if this chapter suffers because of that, hopefully it'll be okay. Now, I know that this is kind of a quick update but I want you guys to know that I update only when I feel like it. No, not to be spiteful, but to make the story better. If I write when I don't feel like writing or if I write when I feel forced to do so, then the chapters come out horribly awful. So, I'm trying to update this story only when I really feel like writing, that way the story won't suck ass. Again, this is a Stan/Kyle (Style) story and contains yaoi (boy/boy romance). If those things aren't your cup of tea, do not read any further than this note. If you like those sorts of things then keep on reading, my friends. This story is rated M for mature due to coarse language, sexual content, and ideologically sensitive material. Enjoy the chapter!_

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The next morning was a bright, sunny Saturday. Stan awoke with a deep stretch and a long yawn. He looked around his room to gain his surroundings. He sleepily sat up, moving his hands to his lower back and leaning forward, causing his spine to make a slight crackling sound. The raven-haired teen smiled with satisfaction as the pain in his stiff back diminished.

"Ah," he sighed, curling his ebony hair with his fingers, combing the locks out with said fingers. He sloppily flopped back down on his bed and opened his cell phone. That's when it hit him. That horrible nightmare he had was no nightmare at all. It had been a cruel reality. "Damn it."

"Stan! Kyle's here!" Sharon called up the stairs, moving aside to allow the redhead entrance into the house.

"What is he doing here this early?"

Before the blue-eyed teen could do anything, he noticed the Jew opening his door. Kyle stepped inside the dimly lit room with a slight smile; several books were tucked underneath his arm.

"Hi, Stan. Sorry I'm so early, I just wanted to come ahead over to see if you were okay," the green-eyed Jew explained, sitting next to his friend on the bed.

"Uh, it's okay. I'm okay," Stan replied softly, blushing lightly as he pulled the covers over his bare chest. Since when was he embarrassed of Kyle seeing him in his boxers? For God's sake, they had seen each other completely naked before and that didn't bother him.

"Well," Kyle began; he was still suspicious that everything wasn't okay. "Okay then. What should we start on first?"

The ebony-haired boy simply shrugged, swallowing his embarrassment as he tugged the covers off of his tan body and tossed them to the floor.

"It doesn't matter to me," he shrugged, crawling off of his bed and walking around the room, collecting his clothes. He rapidly dressed himself and then rejoined his friend on the bed. "Whatever you want to start with is good."

"Hmm, well what were the prep sheets' main objectives?" The green-eyed boy questioned with his naturally soft voice.

"Eh, mostly math," Stan replied, taking the math book out of Kyle's lap and setting it into his own. He used his knees to hold the covers of the book up as he flipped through the pages. His head spun lightly as he skimmed through twenty pages or so. However, his head wasn't spinning due to the fact that he didn't understand a single thing he was reading, but because Kyle had leaned over to see the book for himself.

The ushanka-wearing boy rested his head gently on Stan's shoulder so he could see the pages as well. The raven-haired boy swallowed hard, a tight knot forming in both his throat and stomach. He wanted so badly to wrap his arm around Kyle, but he didn't want to seem obvious.

"Okay, let's start with the basics," the scarlet-haired teen grinned, flipping through the math book's pages until he found the first chapter's review. "So, what do you have the most trouble with?"

"I… I, uh," Stan stuttered, blushing deeply as he felt Kyle using his thigh to lean over more. As he felt the other boy's hand on his thigh he could feel his heart begin to race furiously. He shook his head and tried to regain his composure. "I have a hard time with all of it. But my problem isn't really math, it's anatomy."

"A-anatomy?" Kyle questioned, feeling his ivory-skinned face heat up and his cheeks turn a cherry red. "Uh, wouldn't you rather study math? I mean, considering that math is the overall concept of the exams?"

Stan looked down at the blushing sixteen-year-old, smiling lightly but growing serious. He ran his hand over the top of Kyle's ushanka, causing the other boy to grab onto the ear flaps protectively.

"How come you hardly ever take this thing off?"

"Stan, you're getting distracted," Kyle warned, trying to shake the blush off his face. He scooted away slightly, opening a text book at random. "Y-your mom said that if we weren't going to study then I have to go home. She seems serious this time."

"Okay, okay," the blue-eyed adolescent commented defensively, moving his hands to his lap, running his fingers over the pages of the math book that remained in his lap. "So, anatomy? Where do we start?"

"Uh, I think we should really start with ma-math," the Jew sighed, giving an awkward smile and giggle combination.

"Kyle?" Stan began, moving a hand to his super best friend's shoulder. "Does anatomy make you uncomfortable?"

"W-well, not really," Kyle stated, looking to the ground with a furious blush on his normally pale face. The red from his cheeks seemed to make his bright jade eyes glow to no end, causing Stan to smile contently. "It's just a little awkward, that's all."

"Is it awkward because of me?"

"What? No. That's not what I meant at all, Stan," the redhead lied quickly, the words spewing out of his mouth at warp speed. He flipped the pages of the book he had opened and continued to refuse making eye contact with the ebony-haired boy. "Well, maybe it's partially the reason."

"Why? I mean, it's just me," Stan pointed out, leaning back against the cool wall behind him.

"Maybe it's the same reason as you feeling uncomfortable around me in your boxers all of a sudden."

"O-oh, you noticed that?"

Kyle didn't respond with words, he simply nodded. His blush slowly began to fade as he tapped the tip of his finger on the math book in the other's lap.

"Back to studying."

Stan nodded, brushing his raven locks out from in front of his face with his fingers and tucking them behind his ears. He looked down at the book for a moment before hearing his phone vibrating against his dresser. The crude sound it made normally would have had the two boys roaring with laughter, but today was different. For some reason, everything seemed to be a little awkward.

"Um, I'll be right back," the taller teen muttered out, handing the book he held over to Kyle, who accepted it and immediately began to look over the problems within the text.

Stan grabbed onto his cellular phone and shoved it into the pocket of his unzipped jacket. He waltzed out into the hallway, reciting calculations in case his mother walked by him. He scurried into the bathroom and shut the door behind him, locking it securely.

Flipping open the cell phone caused dread to invade the teen's entire being. He clicked the proper button that opened the recent text message. He swallowed down a large knot that had formed in his throat, which only caused it to be dropped into his stomach as he read the text on the small screen.

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_Stan,_

_Meet me after school on Monday. Your baby deserves to have a father and damn it you're going to be there for it. We need to discuss our relationship after school._

_Love, Wendy_

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Love? Since when did Wendy start ending her messages with love again? Just reading the word "love" beside Wendy's name caused Stan's stomach to churn.

"Damn it, Wendy! That is not my baby!" He shouted a little too loud. He quickly covered his mouth and prayed that nobody had heard him. Thankfully, no comments came and Stan knew he was in the clear. He fumbled with his phone, deleting every message that Wendy had sent to him, desperate to keep his situation a secret.

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_Ending Note: That was kind of a lame chapter but I really had no clue what I was doing. It's almost six in the morning and my mom kept yelling at me while I was writing this chapter. Personally, I'm half-asleep so I don't know what the hell she was talking about. Oh well, I'm sure I'll find out in the morning. Only proofread this twice, hopefully there aren't too many errors. Anyway, reviews are appreciated as always and thanks for reading! Stay tuned for chapter four. _


	4. Chapter 4

_Starting Note: It's time for another chapter. I don't know why, but I really, really felt like writing. I think it's because I am so incredibly stressed out by some people. In other news, the reason for late updating is because my Internet got cut out because I got grounded. Gah! Oh well, I'll get over it. On the plus side, I got the fabric that I need to make cosplay costumes and my dress designs! Yay! Anyway, that's irrelevant to the story. Reviews are wanted dead or alive, just kidding. But if you do review, it is appreciated. Enjoy the chapter. This story is a Stan/Kyle (Style) story and contains yaoi (boy/boy romance). If those things aren't your cup of tea, kindly leave now. If you like this sort of thing, keep on reading. This story is rated M for mature due to coarse language, sexual content, and ideologically sensitive material._

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Token sighed lightly, wrapping his muscular arms around Wendy's petite, curvy figure. He nuzzled his chin into the crook of her neck, kissing her jaw softly.

"I'm going to miss you when I move, Babe," came the teen's slightly raspy voice.

"I'm going to miss you, too. Why do you have to move all the way to Hawaii?"

"I told you," Token began, running his hands over Wendy's still relatively flat stomach. "I have a really good job offer. I'll be sending you money for the baby, but until I can get home we'll get Stan to think this is his baby. You need somebody to take care of you and the baby while I'm gone, Wendy."

Wendy sighed softly, she had never been the dependent type, but this wasn't about her. This was about the unborn baby that was currently growing inside of her. She had to do what was best for the baby, even if this may not be the best thing, it was better than nothing.

"I… I know, Token. But, can we really expect Stan to believe this is his child?"

"He'll have no choice but to think it's his. Even if he doesn't believe it, he'll still think enough of the child to take care of you," Token muttered lightly, resting his chin on Wendy's shoulder. "Just until I save up enough money to move back home and be with you and the baby."

* * *

Stan fumbled with the door knob for a brief moment before finally getting the bathroom door opened. He walked out into the hallway, trying to erase the look of guilt on his face. Guilt? He wasn't guilty of anything. Why did he feel so guilty, when he obviously wasn't guilty of anything that was happening. All of this was Wendy's fault, not his.

"S-Stan?" Kyle questioned, standing outside of the raven-haired adolescent's bedroom, his emerald eyes looking almost like a kitten's, wide and innocent, yet holding a twinge of worry.

"Oh, Kyle," the blue-eyed teen responded, jumping a little as he looked up from the floor to come face-to-face with his crush. "Kyle, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm just… I'm worried about you, Dude. You've been acting weird lately. Did I do something wrong?"

"What? No," Stan quickly spoke with a soothing voice, moving his hands to rest on Kyle's shoulders. "What makes you think that?"

"I… I don't know," Kyle lied softly, shrugging slightly and fidgeting with his ushanka. He twitched softly at the feeling of Stan's strong hands resting on his fragile shoulders. "Let's just get back to studying, okay?"

"Sure. Hey, do you want anything to drink or anything?" The taller of the two boys asked, forming his hands around his mouth to make a megaphone-like echo. "Mom!"

"Oh, your mom went out," the redhead stated bashfully, climbing back onto Stan's bed, wriggling around to get comfortable. He rested his back against the cool wall and sighed lightly, looking about the room. "She had to go to the store. She said we'd be fine here alone for awhile, but we have to study."

"O-oh, okay," Stan replied with a low whisper, moving to sit next to Kyle on the bed, mocking the way the redhead sat. "So, here we are."

"Y-yup," the Jewish boy sighed, looking to the blanket on the bed, picking at a lose thread. "Well, I guess we should get to studying then?"

Stan felt the tension in the room growing thicker, judging by the look on Kyle's face, he could feel it too. You couldn't saw through the tension with a chainsaw, even if you wanted to. Matching the tension, awkwardness also came into play.

"Actually, I was kind of wanting to just talk," Stan muttered out, almost hoping Kyle wouldn't hear him.

"Oh? What about?" Came Kyle's response, which was in just as low of a whisper as Stan's statement had been.

"Kyle, I think I lo-"

Kyle quickly perked up, looking over to his best friend. His eyes were wide and his face a slight shade of pink. His hand moved lightly to Stan's knee as they both leaned in closer to each other.

"Stan?"

Staring deep into Kyle's bright eyes had the seventeen-year-old mesmerized. His body slightly shook as he could feel the redhead's warm breath on his face. He leaned in a little closer, his nerves building. His anxiety was going through the roof and his heart palpitated at top speed.

Kyle's body shook softly, matching Stan's trembles. He froze as the tip of his nose pressed ever-so-slightly against Stan's. That's when everything came tumbling down. The raven-haired teen pulled away rather abruptly, causing Kyle's heart to feel a slight twinge of pain.

"We should study."

"B-but," the redhead sighed, frowning softly, his eyes once again resembling that of a sad kitten. "I... I want-"

"Kyle."

That was what Stan had been waiting for. The Jew didn't even have to finish the statement for the raven-haired boy to understand that his feelings toward Kyle had been a mutual one. He softly moved a shaky hand to the side of Kyle's neck, caressing softly with his thumb.

"Stan."

* * *

_Ending Note: Okay, this is kind of lame considering how long I've been on hiatus, which has been for over a month now. That's not good. But I have had a lot of stuff going on and my life has just went to crap recently. But, things are starting to look up again, so I decided to kick it back into gear with writing. I hope this chapter wasn't too much of a letdown. Also, I didn't do much proofreading since it's late and I'm exhausted. Hopefully you all enjoyed it. Reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for chapter five. _


	5. Chapter 5

_Starting Note: So, I'm not dead. Actually, none of us are dead and May was supposed to be the end of the world. Ha, science just got raped in the butt. But, anyway, I decided that as celebration I would start working on my __"South Park"__ stories again. I don't know why, but I sort of got out of the fandom for a little while after dabbling into a few other shows. But, I decided to come back around after watching my friends DVDs of __"South Park"__ all day one day. We had a nice little marathon of it. Also, I lost my computer for a while when my charger died and I had to buy a new one. Sorry for worrying you all. But, yeah, reviews are loved and wanted. Thanks for reading. Also, this is a Stan/Kyle (Style) and a yaoi (boy/boy romance) story. If that isn't your cup of tea, hit the road. If you're into this sort of thing, keep on trucking. This story is rated M for mature due to its coarse language, sexual content, and ideologically sensitive material. _

* * *

"Kyle," Stan whispered softly as he leaned into Kyle's ear, resisting the urge to manipulate the sensitive flesh. "What do you want?"

"Nhh," the redhead whimper quietly as he felt Stan's breath fall upon his ear. His eyes quickly shot open from their half-lidded state when he felt his super best friend's tongue graze over the sensitive flesh of his ear lobe. "S-Stan! What are you doing?"

The blue-eyed teen quickly backed away, looking into Kyle's wide, emerald orbs. He felt slight guilt wash over him as he pulled away from his best friend.

"Sorry, I thought this was what you wanted," Stan nervously pulled back quickly, wiping the saliva away from the lobe of the redhead's ear.

"I think, I think I just want to study. Please?"

"No," Stan boldly said after a moment of silence, feeling himself gain confidence as he grabbed onto the Jew's shoulders. He forced an awkward eye contact between the two of them, causing Kyle's blushing face to fill with panic. "You said you wanted something. I'm your super best friend, Dude. I have a right to know what you want."

The redhead sighed harshly, looking down with his eyes, but soon looking back into Stan's baby blues. He moved his lanky arms around Stan's tanned neck slowly and hesitantly, burying his burning red face deep into his friend's shoulder.

"I want… I want you to," Kyle fumbled with his words, biting his lower lip slightly and nervously. "I just want you to kiss me, Stan!"

With a faint smile, the raven-haired teen wrapped his arms around the other's petite waist. He pulled himself back slightly so Kyle would be forced to look at him. He reassuringly smiled at the redhead; however his eyes were more comforting than the smile itself.

"All you had to do was ask, Kyle."

"B-But, you like girls. Why else would you have gone with Wendy since elementary school?"

Stan sighed warmly, shaking his head a little as he chuckled breathlessly. He looked back at his confused best friend.

"Wendy was a whore. She didn't do anything but whine and nag at me for as long as we were together. Besides, sex doesn't matter to me. I want to be in love with someone who loves me for me. I don't care if that person is a dude or a chick."

Kyle's eyes glanced back to his best friend, whose face was now burning with a bright blush. Whether he meant to or not, Stan had basically just given a vital piece of information to Kyle. The information caused a tiny grin to form on the nervous Jew's pale face. He moved his fingers over the fabric of the back of Stan's brown, fuzzy jacket.

"R-Really? So, you don't think I'm a gay-wad?"

"I'd be a hypocrite if I said you were," Stan spoke softly, caressing the small of the redhead's back with his thumbs before slowly trailing his hands up the boy's tiny figure. His mouth formed into a small smirk as Kyle's side curved softly at his touches. "Ticklish?"

"Maybe a little," Kyle nervously chuckled, feeling his face begin to heat up once again. He looked down softly to hide the blush that had consumed his face. However, the hiding didn't last for long as Kyle felt Stan's fingers grabbing gently onto his chin, pulling his face up.

"Now, how am I supposed to kiss you if you're hiding your face?"

"I don't kn- wait, you want to kiss me?" Kyle stated, a little surprised by the other's words.

The blue-eyed beauty sighed delicately, grazing his best friend's chin with his thumb. He gazed deeply into Kyle's emerald eyes, staring deep enough to almost view the boy's soul. He leaned in slowly and hesitantly, beginning to shake slightly. Kyle returned the motions, letting his rampaging thoughts disappear, causing his body to visibly relax. The raven-haired boy smiled, feeling reassured as he felt Kyle practically turn into putty in his hands.

"Of course I do."

A bright light seemed to fill Kyle's widened eyes as Stan spoke. Soon, the Jew's large eyes fell half-lidded as he soaked in the feeling of Stan's breath on his face. They both tilted their heads in the opposite direction of each other, making their motions slow. As their lips lined up and finally connected in a warm, slightly wet kiss, the boy's waited for awkwardness to set into the atmosphere. However, this moment never came. Nor did the moment of Stan becoming queasy to the point of vomiting. It all felt so natural, as if it were meant to be.

* * *

_Ending Note: Well, this is shorter and lamer than expected. I'm sorry. Especially since I've been on hiatus for three months or so on this story. Also, I didn't proofread this at all, because, well, I just don't feel like it. I'm super busy. But, I'll try to start updating quicker on it. And I promise I'll have more stories up soon. I have some plots and ideas finally. Enjoy! Reviews are loved and much appreciated. Stay tuned for chapter six._


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